


This ain't a hero complex, it's a goddamn compulsion

by daniomalley



Category: Bandom, My Chemical Romance
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, contains 5 percent fake dating, there's no graphic violence but there's definitely lots of implied violence, vaguely western-flavoured
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-30
Updated: 2017-11-30
Packaged: 2019-02-08 18:21:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,230
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12870354
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/daniomalley/pseuds/daniomalley
Summary: Mikey is on a desperate and dangerous mission, and encounters an unexpected ally along the way. But Ray has some secrets of his own, and they're catching up to him.





	This ain't a hero complex, it's a goddamn compulsion

**Author's Note:**

  * For [therellbepeacewhenyouaredone](https://archiveofourown.org/users/therellbepeacewhenyouaredone/gifts).



> This was written for the wonderful therellbepeacewhenyouaredone. The idea drifted pretty far from what I originally planned, but I hope you enjoy it!

The inn was decrepit and filthy. Even so, Mikey knew that he had better enjoy it while he could. It would likely be some time before he slept with a roof over his head again.

Three men were playing a dice game in the common room when Mikey walked in. He kept his distance, noting the poorly concealed weapons under their clothes and the scars each of them bore. Thankfully, they paid him no mind, choosing instead to bicker over the outcome of the dice roll. Mikey left them to it and asked the innkeeper for a room.

Upstairs was, if anything, even more run-down. The doors had no locks, and Mikey wondered how well he would be able to sleep, knowing that there was nothing keeping anyone from marching in and slitting his throat in the night.

Mikey went to the window, meaning to open it and relieve some of the room’s stuffiness. He forgot all about it when he saw a handful of soldiers down in the street. He panicked for a second, wondering how they knew he was here, before he calmed himself. They probably weren’t looking for him. Soldiers patrolled the villages along the border all the time. Still, if they found Mikey, they wouldn’t let him carry on with his plan, and he couldn’t have that. He’d have to avoid them.

It was early evening, but this would be Mikey’s last stop anywhere which even remotely resembled civilisation, and he intended to make the most of it. He took a few minutes to repack his bag, second-guessing over and over again which items he was most likely to need in a hurry and making sure they were close at hand. Eventually, he gave up, left his bag organised in exactly the same way it had been before, and picked up one of the few books he’d brought with him.

It wasn’t exactly light reading, but rather one of Saporta’s best known volumes on defensive magic. Mikey had read it before, of course, but he scoured the pages now with a new kind of fierce and desperate concentration.

He stopped reading after a while. He knew he wasn’t nearly prepared enough, but he was as prepared as he possibly could be.

He descended the stairs, intending to buy a meal. The grimy common room with its unkempt patrons had not exactly inspired Mikey’s confidence in the food on offer, but he couldn’t justify using his own supplies when there was food right here for the buying. He asked the innkeeper what he could get to eat, and the man grunted and handed him a bowl of watery stew.

“What’s in it?” Mikey asked.

“Meat,” the innkeeper answered.

Mikey considered asking what kind of meat, then thought better of it.

He found a table in the corner, although it was beginning to get busy, and noisy. He was halfway through the bowl when a man approached him, holding a tankard of ale.

“Do you mind if I sit here?” the newcomer asked. “There aren’t any free tables.”

Mikey didn’t feel like company, but he felt like an argument even less, so he waved one hand in invitation. The other man sat down with his back to the windows and hunched over his drink. He was wearing a wide-brimmed hat, even inside, but Mikey could see what looked like a great deal of extremely curly hair escaping from underneath it. The man downed most of his drink in one gulp, wearing the expression of one who had found a spring just as they were about to die of thirst. Mikey found himself intrigued.

“My name’s Mikey,” he said.

The other man glanced at him from under the brim of his hat. “Ray,” he replied. Mikey nodded. Neither of them offered last names. If they had wanted people to know their full names, they wouldn’t have come to a place like this.

“Just passing through?” Mikey asked, because now that he’d initiated a conversation, he felt a responsibility to keep it going.

“Mm-hmm,” said Ray, flagging down the bartender for another drink.

“Me too,” Mikey muttered, thinking of the journey which lay ahead of him.

“What’s...” Ray asked, but he never finished his question, as the door to the inn opened at that moment and several of the soldiers Mikey had noticed earlier came inside. Shit. It looked as though they were just here to buy a meal, but there was a chance they were looking for him, and Mikey couldn’t risk being seen. He’d worked too hard to make it this far.

“Um,” he mumbled, wondering whether he could make an excuse and slip upstairs, or whether that would only draw more attention to himself. Three of the soldiers split from the rest of the group and began making their way towards the table next to Mikey’s, which had just been vacated, and Mikey resigned himself to staying put and probably being discovered.

Suddenly, though, Ray was there, squeezing closer to Mikey and blocking his view of the soldiers. “Play along,” he whispered, and before Mikey had time to ask any questions Ray had leaned in, put his hands on Mikey’s face and kissed him lightly.

Even though Ray had told him to play along, Mikey was too taken aback to reciprocate, or react at all, really. Ray pulled back after a few seconds, just enough to whisper, “Upstairs?”

Mikey nodded, and they headed towards the staircase with their arms wrapped around each other. Ray kept his face ducked down towards Mikey until they had safely climbed the staircase and were standing in the corridor which held the door to Mikey’s room.

When enough time had passed for them to be sure they hadn’t been followed, Ray removed his arm from Mikey’s shoulders and stepped back with a sigh. “Thanks.”

“Uh... sure,” Mikey said. He hadn’t noticed, before, that Ray was hiding from the soldiers as well, but it made sense if he was. They were right on the border, and plenty of people came here for unsavoury reasons. Ray might be a criminal, or be in business with criminals. Maybe he was a deserter. Or maybe he just liked the idea of living somewhere where lawlessness went unchecked.

Mikey wanted to retreat to the relative security of his own room, but he wasn’t sure he wanted Ray to know which room was his. Ray didn’t look like he was going anywhere, though, still scanning the corridor from one end to the other anxiously.

“Do you have a room up here?” Mikey asked, hoping to prompt Ray into moving along.

“No. Do you?”

Damn. Well, that had backfired. Anyone who had seen them leave downstairs would find it odd if they came up here and found them loitering in the hallway. Mikey bit his lip and glanced at Ray. He hadn’t done anything too dodgy, aside from hiding from the soldiers, and Mikey was hiding from them as well. Maybe he had some perfectly good reason for avoiding them. And even if he didn’t, it didn’t mean he was going to do anything to Mikey.

“Yeah,” Mikey said at last, decision made. “This one. Come in.”

Ray accepted the invitation and followed Mikey into the room, scanning it with sharp eyes.

“Why were you hiding from those soldiers?” Mikey asked. Ray gave him a measuring look.

“Just trying to avoid trouble,” he said. “You?”

“Uh, yeah. The same,” Mikey said. Ray nodded, even though Mikey doubted he’d sounded particularly convincing. “What... what do you think they’re doing here?” Mikey asked. He hoped they weren’t looking for him.

Ray shrugged. “The army does patrols along the border all the time. That’s probably all they’re doing,” he said. “I think they’ll move on soon.”

Mikey hoped so. “But... there’ll be lots more patrols around, won’t there?”

“Well, yeah. If you plan to...” Ray paused, probably considering whether he should allude to what Mikey’s plans were, given the obvious distrust between them, then decided to push on. “If you plan to stick around here, you’ll see plenty of them.”

“I’m heading into the wastelands,” Mikey admitted. He couldn’t see the harm in telling Ray that. “Do they patrol over the border much?”

“A bit, especially close to Tasenth,” Ray said. “There’s not really a set border anyway, you know. Just... places where Tasains live, and places where the brigands live. The army tries to protect our people. At least,” Ray added quickly, “that’s what I’m told.”

Mikey nodded, his mood heading south. The further he got into the wasteland, and the less populated it was, the more he was going to stand out. If the army really did patrol out there, there was no way he’d be able to avoid them without relying on magic, and using magic to hide himself would only create other problems. 

“You’re heading into the wastelands by yourself?” Ray asked, frowning. “It’s... pretty dangerous territory.”

“I know. I need to.”

Ray looked like he was trying to make up his mind about something, and at last he said, “Well, since you’re going that way, and I’m going that way, it might be a good idea for us to stick together for a bit. Safety in numbers and all that.”

Mikey almost refused immediately, but when he paused to consider the idea, it didn’t seem like a terrible one. Sure, he didn’t know Ray at all, and if he was out here on the border planning to head into the wastelands he probably had something to hide. But, after all, Mikey was doing the same thing, and he wasn’t a murderer or anything.

He had no idea if he could trust Ray to watch his back, but someone who might attack a lone traveller may well pause before going after two. More importantly, any soldiers who had been told to keep an eye out for Mikey would be looking for one man by himself. Travelling as a pair could offer camouflage, just as it had downstairs when Ray had kissed him. 

“Maybe,” Mikey said. Ray lifted an eyebrow. “I mean, yeah. That’s probably a good idea. At least for some of the way.”

***

They left early the next morning, when the sun had just barely cleared the horizon and the breeze still held a hint of coolness. Ray worked out a cover story for the two of them as they walked.

“If anyone asks, we’re runaway apprentices,” he said. Mikey frowned.

“You’re kind of old to be an apprentice,” he said. “So am I, for that matter.”

Ray frowned. “We need to have some sort of explanation for why we’re out here,” he said.

Mikey hummed in agreement. Ray had left unspoken that no one came out here unless they were running from something.

“What about...” Mikey mused, but then lost the courage to suggest the idea.

“What about what?”

Mikey bit the inside of his cheek. It was Ray kissing him that had put the idea in his head. He’d been thinking about it a lot since it happened, for some reason. “We can say that one of us is running away from an arranged marriage.”

“Huh,” said Ray, like he was considering the idea. “And what about the other one?”

“Well,” Mikey said hesitantly, “If we say that we’re together, but one of us was betrothed to someone they didn’t love, so we ran away together...” He glanced sideways at Ray to gauge his reaction to the idea.

“Ah. That could work. And it gives us a plausible reason to be travelling together, rather than just camouflage.”

They spent some time working out the details of their story together, but Ray got evasive after a while. He didn’t seem to want to tell Mikey too much about himself, even though it would have helped with the deception. Mikey tried not to be too bothered by it. It was fair enough if Ray had secrets; just about everyone out here did. Maybe he was a deserter. There were sure to be a lot of them around here.

The army patrolled the border out here, between where Tasenth ended and the wastelands began. Across the wastelands was another kingdom, so they said, but in between was a land so inhospitable that no one could live there except bands of raiders, who survived by stealing from settlements on the border. The army was supposed to protect the people who lived out here, but it wasn’t considered a very prestigious posting, and the better calibre of soldier tended to end up stationed elsewhere.

It was dull, just walking for hours, mostly in silence, with every attempt at conversation being gently rebuffed. There was nothing to keep Mikey from worrying – about where he was going, and what he would do when he got there, but mostly about what was happening to Gerard. Was he hurt? Was he scared? Did he know Mikey was coming?

For all Mikey’s fruitless efforts to get Ray to work on their cover story, none of the people they encountered seemed to suspect anything or take much notice of them at all. They passed a few other travellers who nodded to them but kept a wary distance, and a few poor families scratching out a living, who hurried away when they saw Mikey and Ray approaching, avoiding eye contact. 

Near lunchtime, they saw an army patrol well away in the distance. Mikey slowed down, the better to watch them, but Ray grabbed his wrist and dragged him through the doorway of a nearby shack.

The shack was so run-down that Mikey had assumed it was abandoned, but inside they discovered a man and woman, huddled together in a corner and staring at he and Ray with expressions of complete terror.

“We don’t have anything,” the man said, but the woman interrupted him.

“We have food. You can take it, here. There’s nothing else.”

The woman held out a wedge of hard yellow cheese and some mouldy bread. The man was moving his gaze back and forth between Ray, Mikey, and one corner of the hovel. Ray ignored the food and sighed.

“You’ll have to get better at lying to make it out here,” he said. “And find a better hiding place for your valuables.”

He reached into the thatch, ignoring the man’s pained groan, and pulled out a small leather bag. “Either keep this on you, or bury it somewhere outside. It’s too easy to search a place like this.”

He held the bag out towards the man, who reached for it tentatively, his expression disbelieving.

The shack had no windows, only the doorway. Ray returned to Mikey’s side and peered through it. “Is that patrol coming this way?”

They weren’t, Mikey had seen to that. They passed right by, seemingly unaware that the shack even existed. Ray watched anxiously until the soldiers were out of view, but Mikey, knowing that they were quite safe, kept busy by looking around the shack.

The couple must not have been there long. Mikey saw two packs in the corner, still full but not bulging the way his and Ray’s were. Someone – a lot of someones by the look of it – had lit a fire on the bare stone floor. It was out now, but the logs were still smoking. The couple were dressed in filthy clothes, although they seemed well made. Mikey remembered the desperation with which the woman had tried to give them the food, and slid his pack off before he could think better of it.

“Here,” he said, handing over some dried meat and a few apricots. 

“Oh, no, you don’t have to...” the woman murmured, but her eyes were fixed on the food and when Mikey offered it a second time, she took it without protest.

Mikey met Ray’s eyes, expecting to see judgement, but instead he shrugged and reached into his own pack, handing over a few of his own supplies. The couple stammered effusive thanks, and the woman seemed like she might be about to cry. Ray hastily took his leave, and Mikey followed.

Ray seemed to be in a rather sour mood after that, frowning and sunk into a gloomy silence. Mikey grew even more curious about who he was. What kind of man came out here, obviously running from something, probably some kind of criminal from the way he avoided soldiers, but still had the kindness to try to help a couple as wretched as the two they’d just encountered? Giving advice was one thing, but handing over food they really couldn’t afford to spare?

“Are you okay?” he asked, when Ray’s silence became oppressive.

“Those people aren’t going to make it,” Ray said.

Mikey thought about it, noticing a drop in his own mood. Ray was right, they probably wouldn’t. Even Mikey had seen how ill-prepared they were for this place. Why had they even come here?

Well, Mikey knew better than most that anyone could have their reasons. Surely not everyone out here was a violent criminal who’d stab you over a copper coin. Some people who ran away out here had probably been wrongly accused of a crime, or made a powerful enemy, or even runaway apprentices like Ray had suggested.

Maybe that was Ray’s secret. Maybe he’d been wrongly accused of something. After what he’d seen, Mikey couldn’t imagine him doing anything to actually harm anyone.

***

As evening approached and Mikey was starting to think longingly of the hard bread and jerky in his pack, they saw a tiny house in the distance with a man sitting by the front door.

“Should we make a detour?” Mikey asked.

Ray looked around, frowning. “It’d be a pain in the ass,” he said. “It’s only one guy. I’m sure we’ll be fine.”

The guy stood as they got close, and waved lazily to them with a broad grin on his face. This close, Mikey could see that he was actually pretty short and not carrying any weapons that he could see, but there was something in his stance, so relaxed and confident, that suggested he was not to be trifled with.

“Hey there,” the man called once they were in earshot.

“Hey,” Ray answered. Mikey kept quiet and stayed watchful.

“You two don’t look familiar. You new out here?” the stranger asked.

Mikey tensed, and Ray seemed to have decided not to answer the question. “Is this stuff for sale?” he asked, gesturing to the low table spread with a few items by the door. There was nothing too special there, some dried meat, some full water skins, a few pieces of clothing. Mikey eyed a broad-brimmed hat with a touch of longing.

“Sure is,” the stranger said. “You don’t get far out here without keeping yourself well supplied. If you don’t mind me saying, it looks like you’re travelling pretty light. It only takes a man two days to die out here once he runs out of water, and there aren’t many folks out here like me who aim to help outsiders like you.” He picked up one of the water skins, and Mikey noticed that tattoos covered not just his arms, but his hands as well. “Only five silver for one, or eight silver for two.”

“Five _silver_?” Ray asked, his voice rising rapidly on the last word. “That’s ludicrous! You can’t expect anyone to pay that!”

The other man shrugged. “Your funeral,” he said. “Hopefully not literally, of course. Dead men aren’t big spenders.”

Ray frowned, and Mikey thought he was going to argue, but instead he said, “I know who you are.”

Mikey blinked and braced himself to run. He didn’t have to know much about this place to know a statement like that wouldn’t be well received. The stranger only grinned more brightly, though, and bobbed his head.

“Is that so?”

“You’re Fun Ghoul,” said Ray. “They say nothing happens and no one comes out here without you knowing about it.”

Fun... Ghoul? Smirked. “You’re not as dumb as you look, kid.”

Ray ignored the insult, even though Mikey was pretty sure this guy was younger than both of them. “Smart enough to know you’re selling a lot more than what you’ve got out here.”

“Oh, so _that’s_ what you’re after,” Ghoul said. He looked around as though he was making sure no one was watching them. “I keep the other stuff inside. Hurry up.”

Inside was just as grimy and desolate as the outside. A tattered curtain hid one corner of the room, and Mikey glimpsed a sagging mattress behind it. It was cluttered and disorganised; a row of cupboards lined one wall, the doors hanging crookedly off their hinges, with an assortment of unrecognisable gadgets scattered on the counter above. Boxes were stacked in every corner, mostly full of junk as far as Mikey could see. A movement caught Mikey’s eye and he looked towards the rickety table sitting under the window, where a small one-eyed cat glowered at him and swished its tail.

“What are you looking for?” Ghoul asked, kicking some rubbish aside as he headed to one of the stacks of boxes.

“What have you got?”

“Hm. Not much in the way of ammo right now, but I’ve got a couple of reliable pistols that you might like. I have a rifle at the moment, too, but that’s pretty pricey. And plenty of boots, feel free to try them on.”

Mikey blinked and looked down at his feet. Ray said, “I’m good, but thanks.” Mikey shifted his gaze across to Ray’s huge, heavy boots, and figured that was true.

“You sure? Good boots out here can save a man’s life.”

“Yeah? Did you get all these boots off dead men?” Ray asked, his voice growing sharper.

“Waste not, want not,” said Ghoul without taking offence.

After much haggling, Ray bought an ugly six-shooter and two dozen rounds. He tried to convince Mikey to buy a pistol as well, but Mikey declined, politely but firmly.

“I wouldn’t know what to do with it. I’d probably just end up shooting myself in the foot.”

Ray considered his words and nodded, holstering his own gun with an easy sort of confidence. Mikey turned his attention back to Ghoul, and steeled himself to ask the question he’d been rehearsing in his head.

“Ray said you know everything that goes on out here,” he began. Ghoul nodded. “So you’d be the person to ask about the Red Claws?”

Ghoul raised his eyebrows, and Ray whipped around to stare at Mikey.

“I can tell you everything you need to know about them,” Ghoul said. “It’s this: stay away. They’re more than you can handle, kid. You’re better off going back home.”

“But I can’t,” Mikey said. “I...”

“Mikey was supposed to marry someone else, but he didn’t love her,” Ray lied, putting his arm around Mikey’s shoulders. Mikey fell silent. He’d forgotten all about their cover story. “We can’t go home. But that doesn’t mean we need to go looking for the Red Claws.”

Mikey grimaced. This was going to make things more difficult. “It’s really important,” he said.

Ray looked at Ghoul and said, “Can you give us a moment?”

Ghoul nodded gravely and Ray ushered Mikey outside.

“What the hell?” Ray asked once they were out of earshot. “Mikey, please tell me you didn’t come out here so that you could join up with the Red Claws. First of all, Ghoul’s right, they’d eat you for breakfast. Second... I just, I didn’t think you were like that. Was I wrong?”

“No!” said Mikey. “No, it’s not like that. I don’t want anything to do with them. I just... it’s my brother. They’ve got my brother.”

Ray’s face dropped. “Mikey...”

“He’s not dead!” Mikey insisted, because he knew that was what Ray would be thinking. “Gerard’s a sorcerer. He’s really powerful, that’s why they took him. So they’ll want to keep him alive, but Gerard won’t... he won’t work for them, he just won’t, and I’m scared they’ll hurt him, so I just, I have to get him back, Ray.”

Ray scrubbed his hands through his bushy hair and scrunched his face up. “Fuck,” he groaned.

Ray was the first to speak when they went back to Ghoul.

“Mikey’s got some differences with the Red Claws that he’d like to settle,” said Ray. “It would really help us if we knew where to look.”

Ghoul looked at him incredulously. “You’re going along with this?” he asked. “They’ll straight up murder him, you know that, right? They’ll kill both of you.”

Ray sighed and looked like he did know that, which did nothing for Mikey’s confidence, but he didn’t back down and eventually Ghoul gave in with a shake of his head.

“You’re both of you fucking crazy,” he said. “Come here, I’ll need to write this down.”

***

They left Ghoul’s shack, Ray clutching the scrap of paper which held the directions. He strode ahead of Mikey, the set of his shoulders stiff and angry, and Mikey could barely keep up. He’d been expecting Ray to demand answers, an explanation, or something, but he was silent.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you,” Mikey said when he couldn’t stand it anymore.

Ray shrugged. “You had no obligation to tell me,” he said, but he still looked pissed. A few seconds passed, and he asked, “Do you have any idea how you’re going to get to your brother? Because I think Ghoul’s right, you don’t stand a chance.”

Mikey was hesitant to tell Ray, but he felt guilty, and he was probably going to find out anyway. “Gerard has magic, but so do I. I’m not as powerful as him, but I think I’ll be able to sneak in without being seen, and once I get to Gerard we can break out together.”

Ray was quiet. Mikey got the distinct impression he was biting his tongue to keep himself from pointing out the numerous holes in Mikey’s plan. Rather than commenting on that, Ray said, “So you could have used your magic to hide from the soldiers back in the inn.”

Mikey had almost forgotten all about that, the incident which had thrown he and Ray together. “I don’t know. I thought they were looking for me. I’m not that powerful really; I can keep someone from noticing me if they don’t expect to see me, but if I try it when they’re looking for me, it’s more likely to just make them suspicious.”

“Why did you think they were looking for you?”

“Oh, right.” Mikey bit at his lower lip. “Because Brian... Brian is a friend of ours, since our parents died he’s sort of kept an eye out for me and Gerard. He knew I wanted to come looking for Gerard, and he said I shouldn’t, I should leave it to the army because it was too dangerous. We argued about it. But I’m sure he’s told the army what’s happened, and that they should watch out for me. I can’t get dragged home without Gerard, Ray, I know if the army finds him they’ll bring him home but they’re not going to go looking for him, and I need to do something.”

Ray listened intently as Mikey babbled, and although he’d been expecting Ray to argue or tell him he was being stupid, he didn’t say anything of the sort. “Fuck,” he said. Well, maybe it wasn’t as encouraging as it could have been, but under the circumstances, Mikey would take it. 

“You think I should go home too?” Mikey asked, like it was a sore he couldn’t resist prodding.

Ray sighed. “I really should tell you to,” he said. “But you’re right – the army won’t go looking for him, they’ve got too many other things to do.”

“Yeah,” said Mikey, relaxing a little once Ray had agreed with his assessment of the situation.

“You realise we’re probably both going to get killed, right?”

“You don’t have to come with me,” Mikey said, even though Ray had become a solid comforting presence over the last day.

Ray shrugged and didn’t bother to argue, but a minute later Mikey heard him murmur, “It’s the right thing to do.”

***

The Red Claws had a base in the shadow of a tall, craggy hill. Someone was guarding the gate, a shotgun resting casually across his knees. To the right of the gate, two pikes were driven into the ground, a severed head sitting atop each one, eyes gone and skin slowly peeling off. Mikey swallowed hard and reminded himself he didn’t have time to be sick or squeamish. Gerard needed him.

“Are you sure about this?” Ray asked. He looked tense and worried, and it struck Mikey yet again that he had no real reason to want to help Mikey or Gerard, and little enough proof that Mikey could do what he claimed he could, but he was still here, ready to risk himself because it was right. He had no idea what he would have done if he hadn’t met Ray back in that inn. He’d probably never have made it this far. 

“I’m sure,” Mikey said. “Come on, before I chicken out.”

The largest buildings were built up against a low cliff-face. Some of them even looked like they were set back into it slightly. In front of those buildings were a few shacks and tents, and a rickety fence encircled the lot. It didn’t look like it would keep anything out except perhaps an unambitious chicken. Mikey firmly kept his gaze turned away from the heads on pikes. He supposed they didn’t need the fence to do anything other than mark the border between where the wasteland ended and the base began.

“It helps if you look confident,” Mikey said as they approached the gate, more for his own benefit than Ray’s. He reached out for the guard’s mind once they got close enough, noticing the familiar shape and texture of someone else’s thoughts. In the way that had become almost second nature to him, Mikey leaned against the guard’s mind to push his thoughts in the direction Mikey wanted them to go. Here is someone familiar, who is supposed to be here. This is all normal. No, nothing strange is happening, this is fine.

It was no surprise to Mikey that the guard didn’t even look up as they walked past, but from Ray’s fast, shallow breaths, he could tell he hadn’t been sure Mikey’s magic would get them through. Mikey couldn’t help but puff his chest out a little bit at Ray’s obvious admiration.

“Which way?” Ray asked, once they were well inside the fence.

“Uh,” Mikey said, looking around. He really hadn’t thought that far ahead. He’d sort of pictured the base as a little ring of tents or maybe one building with Gerard in the middle, possibly with a large colourful sign pointing the right way. This base was a lot bigger and busier than he’d been prepared for.

Ray must have been able to guess all that from Mikey’s expression, and some of the awe he’d been showing a minute ago faded. Damn. 

“I expect they’ll have him in one of the most secure buildings, and those are going to be the ones built up against the cliff face,” Ray said. “We should look out for one which is guarded more heavily than the others.”

“Okay,” Mikey agreed, and they began walking into the shadow of the cliff. 

The air smelled of woodsmoke and animals. Mikey hadn’t really thought about it before, but this was clearly a place where people lived, although it didn’t look like much of a life. Washed clothes were strung on lines between the tents to dry, every piece worn and mended many times. A few campfires had meat cooking above them, scrawny rabbits or birds, but most of them had pots containing unrecognisable soup or stew. From the glimpses Mikey got of the tents’ interiors, most of the inhabitants slept in thin bedrolls on the ground. 

The people they passed watched them warily, but not suspiciously, easily giving way to Mikey’s magic. Their hands dropped near their weapons as Mikey and Ray passed and they watched from the corners of their eyes, but it all seemed like a reflex, something they did without thinking or even noticing that they were doing it.

There were a few children about, to Mikey’s astonishment. A few of them followed Mikey and Ray at a distance, hiding behind barrels and fences as though they thought they wouldn’t be noticed. It made Mikey nervous; for some reason children were much less susceptible to his mind control. None of them tried to raise an alarm, however, and Mikey reminded himself to act confident, to give the illusion weight.

Once they got near enough to the cliff wall, it was easy to see where they needed to go. One of the buildings was clearly larger than the others, with no less than four guards standing in front of it. Two of them held rifles, there was a woman with a bow, and the fourth had a sword almost as big as he was.

For all their intimidating weaponry, the guards were much less alert than the man by the front gate. They clearly didn’t expect anyone to actually pose a threat inside the base itself, and appeared to be treating their sentry duty as a chance to gossip with each other and show off in front of the rest of the camp.

Being so close to his goal, Mikey felt both more cautious and more eager to rush onwards. The guards barely seemed to notice he and Ray at all, and then they were inside. For all that the house looked big in comparison to every other structure in the base, it was pretty small in the grand scheme of things, and once they were through the front door, there were only two directions to go; straight ahead, or to the right. Mikey chose to carry on straight ahead down the hallway, reasoning that deeper into the house would be more secure.

At the end of the hallway and around the corner, they found a man sitting on a stool in front of a closed door. With a little concentration, Mikey convinced him that his shift was over and his replacement was late, and he stood with a scowl and marched towards the front door. Mikey hoped he wouldn’t go after whoever was supposed to take his place and start an argument; that could potentially cause some problems, but he didn’t have time to come up with anything better.

The door was locked, and Mikey was furious with himself for not thinking to get the guard’s keys before he left, but Ray looked the door up and down somewhat disdainfully, set his shoulder against it and shoved it open like it was made of bark and toothpicks.

“Urk,” Mikey said, because he was halfway through forming a few words of appreciation when it actually registered that Gerard was in that room, and every other coherent thought was forcibly shoved from his head.

The room was tiny and had no windows. It was basically a cupboard; maybe it was actually a cupboard, because why would Gerard’s captors have bothered trying to make him comfortable. His legs were tied together and his hands were bound behind his back. He was blindfolded and gagged, and he must have heard the door being pushed open because his head was turned towards them with every inch of his body radiating tension.

Fuck. Mikey felt a heady, overpowering relief to see him still alive, at the same time as his veins ran with a cold fury. How _dare_ these people treat Gerard like this. How _dare_ they.

“Gerard, it’s me. It’s Mikey, I’m here.” He rushed across the floor and put his hands around Gerard in a hug; Gerard leaned against him, but Mikey could also hear the muffled sounds as he tried to speak. Probably to demand why Mikey was there, putting himself in so much danger, but whatever. As though not coming for Gerard had even been a possibility.

Mikey removed the blindfold first; it was tangled in Gerard’s hair and, though he tried to be gentle, he pulled a few strands out while untying the knot. The gag was next, and Gerard first coughed for half a minute and then began showering Mikey with questions without giving him time to answer.

“Mikey, what the fuck are you doing here? What were you thinking? This isn’t safe! How did you even find me? Do you have any idea how dangerous this is?”

Mikey just let Gerard rant while he worked on freeing his hands. The ropes were tight and Mikey struggled for a few minutes to work the knot free until Ray stepped in with a pocket knife and cut Gerard loose. Gerard actually went quiet at last as he drew his arms back around to the front, except for groans and winces. Mikey wondered how long he’d been tied in that one position to have become so stiff. His kidnappers must have kept him bound and gagged since they’d taken him, to prevent Gerard from using his magic against them. He must be in agony.

Ray cut the rope around Gerard’s legs as well, and Gerard finally looked away from Mikey long enough to notice that someone else was there.

“Hi?” Gerard said. 

Mikey thought that he should probably introduce them, but Ray just gave a nod and said, “Can you walk?”

Right. Time for niceties later. Mikey and Ray helped Gerard to stand up; he seemed unsteady on his feet and groaned a bit as he straightened up. With the gag and blindfold gone, Mikey could see Gerard’s face better, and realised that his lip was split and one of his eyes had obviously been swollen shut until recently. The bruises on his face were yellowing, but still impossible to miss. The anger which had been cooling inside Mikey flared back to boiling again.

“Come on,” Mikey said. “The faster we get out of here, the better.”

Getting out of the base itself wasn’t the hard part. Mikey knew that he could keep controlling the occupants until they were a little distance away. It was what would come next which worried him. They didn’t have horses, and Gerard was obviously in no condition to travel far on foot. They would have to find somewhere to hide once the Red Claws came looking for them. Mikey’s magic would be a lot less useful once they were actually looking for them. He had, in all honesty, been hoping that Gerard would be able to help with that once Mikey found him, but now, watching Gerard stumble along and leaning on Ray for support, Mikey wasn’t so sure he was up to it.

“We should find somewhere to hide,” Mikey said. Ray looked at him and nodded, and Mikey felt a surge of affection. Ray looked so composed, so unruffled, even now with the possibility of being caught and painfully killed hanging over their heads. Mikey wondered how he’d thought he’d be able to pull this off by himself.

“Maybe we should head south a bit more,” Ray suggested.

“Why?” Mikey asked. The border was to the east. Going south would actually take them further from safety.

“They won’t expect that. They’ll probably be going the other way. And, well... If they do send scouts that way, they won’t really be expecting to find you, so maybe you’ll be able to use your magic on them more easily?”

“If they come after us, I can take care of them. Now I can speak and use my hands, they won’t stand a chance,” said Gerard, just before he tripped and Mikey had to grab his arm to keep him from falling on his face.

“Let’s keep that as a backup plan,” said Mikey diplomatically. “Just in case we can’t avoid them.”

They veered south, and the land grew drier, the air hotter. They found a dry streambed and dropped down into it, sitting on the shady side and sharing their remaining water and jerky. It could almost have been pleasant, like an outing to the countryside, if it wasn’t for the overwhelming fear.

“So, who are you, exactly?” Gerard asked once they’d all caught their breath. Whoops.

“I’m Ray,” Ray answered, and then Mikey stepped in.

“Ray helped me get out here and find you, I never would have made it without him. He watched my back the whole way,” Mikey said. He realised he was gushing when Ray blushed and looked away, but he couldn’t really help it. Ray deserved every bit of praise and more. Mikey would never have been able to get to Gerard without his help. 

“Then I owe you one,” said Gerard. “If anything had happened to Mikey, I don’t know what I would have done.”

Mikey rolled his eyes. “Yeah, that and how he helped me save you from being held hostage by a pack of criminals, let’s not forget that.” He frowned, and asked more seriously, “How badly are you hurt?”

“Not that badly,” said Gerard, but Mikey didn’t have time for that shit.

“Seriously, if it’s something we need to look at, there’s no time like the present. I didn’t come after you just to have you drop dead right when we’re almost safe.”

“I’m not going to drop dead, Mikey, fucking hell,” Gerard complained, but he let Mikey and Ray prod at him until they were satisfied he was more or less okay. Ray, at least, seemed to know what he was doing when he peered at Gerard’s eyes and inspected the bruises on his chest and stomach, so Mikey let himself feel reassured when he straightened up and said Gerard would make a full recovery.

They travelled more slowly than they had on their way to retrieve Gerard, both out of consideration for his injuries and because they needed to avoid being seen. A few times they saw people who might have been Red Claws, but always from a safe distance. They stayed out of sight of anyone at all, not wanting to risk word of mouth getting back to the Red Claws.

Gerard was able to use his magic to get early warning of when someone was nearby, as well as to make sure they didn’t get lost, but it was Ray who really kept things together. When they ran out of food, he was able to forage for more, even though it wasn’t much. He knew how to do all sorts of things, from cooking over a fire to building a concealed shelter out of twigs. On some level, Mikey was aware that he was reaching worshipful levels of admiration, but he couldn’t make himself care.

“You really like him,” Gerard observed on the third afternoon. They were preparing to make camp for the night, and expected to reach the border the next morning.

“No, I don’t,” Mikey said, and then remembered that this was Gerard he was talking to, and he’d never managed to hide anything from him and wasn’t likely to start now. “Okay, so what if I do?”

“So, nothing. It’s great. Ray’s great. You have my blessing, or whatever. Go forth and hit that.”

“For fuck’s sake, Gerard!”

“Hey, I’m being supportive. I bet Brian will like him, too.”

That pulled Mikey up short. Brian would probably love Ray, if they met. They would probably get along great. And they’d probably never get the chance to find out, because Mikey came out to the wastelands to find Gerard and bring him home, but Ray was almost certainly out here because he was running away from something. He wasn’t going to want to come back with Mikey.

That night, as they ate a small meal made up of the last of their supplies, Mikey decided it was time to show a bit of courage. If he’d been brave enough to travel out here by himself to rescue Gerard from a pack of lawless murderers, surely he could be brave enough to try, just try with Ray and see if he felt the same way. Gerard went to lie down, which was about as much privacy as they were going to get, so Mikey moved to sit next to Ray.

“Thanks for helping us, Ray... I don’t think I’ve said it enough, but we wouldn’t have stood a chance without you.”

“Mikey, seriously, it’s fine. I wanted to help. I’m glad that Gerard’s okay, and you can both go home safely.”

“Yeah.” Mikey examined his boots. The past week had been hard on them; they were looking much worse for wear. “It’s just, I’m really glad we met. Not just because I’m grateful, although I am, but. You know. You’re pretty great. You’re a good guy.” He leaned towards Ray so that their shoulders pressed together. 

“Mikey...” Ray was looking towards Mikey, but not really meeting his eyes. He bit his lip, and Mikey couldn’t stand it anymore. He ducked forward and pressed his mouth to Ray’s, heart pounding with some mix of anxiety and sheer delight. Ray froze for a second before kissing back, his hands moving from Mikey’s shoulders to his face to his waist like Ray couldn’t decide where to put them. He tilted Mikey’s chin up and deepened the kiss; Mikey sighed. It felt like he was melting, like he could just be stuck to Ray’s side like this forever and that would be okay, and then Ray stiffened and abruptly broke the kiss.

“I’m sorry,” Ray said, looking away.

“It’s fine,” said Mikey, feeling slow and stupid. “It was good. Wasn’t it?”

Ray grimaced and Mikey felt disappointment hit his stomach so hard it was like a physical pain. “I shouldn’t have done that.”

“But I wanted you to,” said Mikey in a small voice.

“I know, Mikey, okay? I know. But, come on, you and Gerard have your home to go back to, and I have to stay out here.”

“You don’t have to, you could come with us...”

“I can’t, Mikey.”

“But...”

“Mikey, please. I want to – you don’t understand. I want to stay with you so much, I can’t even tell you. If it was possible I would in a heartbeat, but I just can’t. Please just believe me.”

Mikey badly wanted to keep arguing with him. Maybe he could wear Ray down; if they both wanted to be together so much, surely they could find a way. But then Ray said please in a voice so full of misery that Mikey didn’t have the heart to protest.

“I guess, if... you’re so sure, then. Okay,” Mikey mumbled. He slumped over towards where Gerard was huddled on the ground under a blanket, and laid down next to him. He half-expected Ray to come after him or say something, but he didn’t, and after a few seconds Mikey heard him walking away from the campsite.

He’d thought Gerard was sleeping, but after Ray had left he reached out and took Mikey’s wrist in his hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. Mikey’s eyes burned. He hated to think that someone had been listening to all that, but it was Gerard, and it was kind of a relief to know he wouldn’t need to explain it to him.

They were a gloomy bunch as they got ready to leave the next morning. Mikey couldn’t look at Ray, and Ray seemed to be experiencing a similar problem. Gerard tried to fill up the silence with chatter, but even he eventually became discouraged, and they continued on in silence.

There were signs that they were getting closer to the border. The road was wider and there were occasional houses along the way. The scrub and weeds that dotted the landscape gave way to patches of grass and the occasional tree. Mikey expected at any moment that Ray would speak up to take his leave, but he didn’t. Maybe he was putting it off.

The first sign that something was wrong was the plumes of smoke just visible over the ridge. They crept closer and found a large encampment of soldiers. Mikey looked down at the group and said, “I should be able to get us past them.”

Ray said, “Yeah,” but then added, “I mean, I think I should probably... it might be time for me to head back.”

A nasty sour feeling settled in Mikey’s stomach. “Yeah,” he said. “I guess. If you want.”

It was hard not to grab Ray by the shoulders and demand that he tell Mikey what he was running from, or promise that he could protect Ray from whatever it was. But Ray had to have realised by now that Mikey could keep him safe. If he wasn’t going to stay with them, it had to be because he didn’t want to.

So Ray got up to walk back the way they’d come, but stopped short with a worried, “Um?”

Mikey turned around. A small squad of soldiers had appeared behind them, obviously part of the larger group, and Mikey was about to reach for his magic when he realised that one of them wore the robes of an army sorcerer. Trying to use magic against them would only give away that they were trying to hide something. He did his best to look casual.

“Hi,” Mikey said.

One of the soldiers, the one with the most little badges adorning his uniform, dismounted from his horse and drew his sword. Mikey took a step backwards out of reflex, lifting his hands in a placating gesture.

“Hey,” he said. “Hey, what’s this about?”

The soldiers took no notice of him, though, and instead surrounded Ray.

“What’s going on?” Gerard asked in a low voice. “Do you want me to take care of these guys? I can do it, even the sorcerer.”

“I don’t understand what’s happening,” Mikey said frantically.

The soldier who appeared to be in charge approached them. “Do you two know this man?”

“Yeah? What are you doing with him?” Mikey demanded. The soldier glowered.

“So you’re aware of what he’s done?”

Mikey hesitated. He’d guessed that Ray might be a deserter; it was what made the most sense, and would have explained how he knew so much about survival in general and the wasteland in particular. But the soldier seemed to be implying that something more than that was going on.

“What would that be, exactly?” he hedged.

“He’s the one who’s been selling military secrets to gangs in the wastelands. I caught him in the act myself. He would have been executed then and there, but he escaped and ran like the coward he is. If you’ve been travelling with him for any length of time, you’re very lucky he didn’t take it into his head to stab you in the back. That’s the kind of man you’ve been dealing with.”

Mikey stared, stunned. “That can’t be true.” He looked over at Ray, but he wasn’t looking back at Mikey, and he wasn’t saying anything to defend himself. Why wasn’t he defending himself? It had to be some sort of mistake. If Ray would just explain it, everything would be fine. 

But he said nothing, even when the soldiers clapped manacles around his wrists and led him away. The leader nodded to Gerard and Mikey one more time, then frowned. 

“You look familiar,” he said to Mikey. “Have we met?”

Mikey shook his head.

“Oh, I know! You’re the kid we were asked to keep an eye out for. Way, right? Well, you’d better come back with us. I know you want to help your brother, kid, but that sort of thing is better left to the military.”

“I already found my brother,” Mikey said, gesturing to Gerard who gave an odd little wave. “We were on our way back when we ran into you.”

“Oh,” said the soldier, looking at Gerard and raising his eyebrows. “Well, you’d best stick with us anyway. It’s not safe out here, and I’m sure you’d hate for anything to happen to your brother just when you were almost home.”

Mikey didn’t really want to accept the offer, but it made no sense to refuse, so he and Gerard trailed along in the wake of the squad, which bypassed the encampment and headed towards one of the towns which lined the border. Mikey was careful to keep enough distance between himself and the squad that he couldn’t see Ray, and tried to completely forget that he’d ever met him. 

The gangs in the wastelands survived by raiding the towns near the border. They killed people, or stole their livestock and left them to starve. They kidnapped people to hold for ransom or use as slaves. They were an awful bunch, and Ray had been helping them. Maybe he hadn’t personally done any of those things, but he might as well have, and Mikey had been completely fooled by his gentle smile and soft voice and his quiet confidence...

He shook his head to dispel the unwelcome thoughts, and kept walking. It was a shame there wasn’t something more to occupy his attention, because there was no way to keep his thoughts from drifting back to Ray. He’d seemed so good, so kind. He’d joined Mikey to help rescue Gerard even though there couldn’t have been anything in it for him. Even though...

“Gee?” Mikey whispered.

“Yeah?”

“Do you... do you believe what they said? About Ray?”

“Do you?” Gerard replied. 

Mikey thought hard for a minute. “He didn’t argue, when they took him. If he was innocent, why wouldn’t he try to defend himself?”

“I don’t know.”

“But... why would he have helped us, if what they said is true? Why would he come with me to save you from the same people he’d been helping? It doesn’t make any sense.”

“You’re right,” Gerard agreed. “It doesn’t. So what are you going to do about it?”

“Well... for starters, I’m going to make sure they don’t do anything to him.”

Gerard chuckled. “I see how it is, you rescue one person and suddenly you’re hooked.”

Mikey laughed a little, but he was too worried to find Gerard’s joke all that funny. “I don’t know how we’re going to do this. They have a sorcerer. My magic isn’t going to do much good, and yours is...” Mikey tried to think of a tactful way to put it, and settled on, “not subtle enough for this.”

“Well then, there’s obviously only one answer,” said Gerard. Mikey sighed, sure that whatever Gerard was about to say would be either foolish or mad. “We’ll have to do this without magic instead.”

Ah, both it was. Excellent.

“I’m going to regret this,” Mikey muttered, but there was no question in his mind that he was going to follow whatever ludicrous plan Gerard came up with.

***

They reached the town in the late afternoon, and the soldiers took Ray off to the small jail. Mikey and Gerard took their leave and made their way to the tavern down the road on the pretext of getting a drink.

“How, exactly, do you expect we’ll get this to work?” Mikey asked once they were well away from anyone who might want to listen in.

“We’ll buy disguises.”

“Buy?” Mikey drew Gerard’s attention to the small stash of coins he had left. “We could just about afford a fake moustache and a paper hat.”

“We’ll just have to find them somehow.”

“Somehow?”

“Yeah, maybe we could borrow them.”

“You mean steal,” said Mikey.

“I suppose you could put it like that, yes.”

“Right.” Mikey peered into the glass of ale he’d bought with some of their remaining coin. “And then what?”

“We sneak in while they’re distracted, get Ray out of there, and run for it.”

Mikey groaned and rubbed his forehead. “They’ll come after us.”

“Maybe, but once we get away, I can protect us.”

“And how, exactly, are we going to distract them?”

Gerard started to answer, then stopped as he obviously realised that his usual tactic of creating an illusion wouldn’t work with the army sorcerer in the mix. “Uh... I’m sure something will come up.”

Mikey looked down at the scratched surface of the table despondently. “This isn’t going to work.”

Gerard looked like he was going to argue for a second, but he must have realised Mikey was right, and slumped. “We need to get rid of the sorcerer.”

“How?” Mikey asked. Gerard didn’t answer, and when Mikey finally looked up he was staring down at his hands with a troubled expression. “Gerard? What are you talking about?”

“As long as that sorcerer’s around, we can’t do anything.”

“What do you mean, we should get rid of him?”

Gerard grimaced, like he hated Mikey for making him say it. “You know what I mean.”

“No, I don’t! You can’t be saying what it sounds like you’re saying, because you would never suggest that!”

“Mikey, do you want to save Ray? Because this is the only way to do it.”

Mikey bit his lip, feeling a tiny bit ill. He hated the idea of choosing between leaving Ray behind or killing some poor sucker who just wanted to do their job. How could he possibly make a decision like that?

“I need to think about it,” Mikey said, although he couldn’t imagine it ever becoming clearer no matter how long he took to ponder the dilemma.

At the next table over, two men were talking eagerly about watching a hanging in the morning. It took a few minutes of eavesdropping for Mikey to confirm they were talking about Ray, and then he couldn’t bear to hear anymore. He stood up.

“I need to get out of here,” he muttered to Gerard. He walked out into the street and looked around with no idea of where he wanted to go or what he was going to do. Gerard exited the tavern behind him, and to avoid having to talk to him Mikey set off down the street with no particular destination in mind.

He reached an intersection and almost collided with someone walking the other way. Mikey scrambled out of the way, noticing that the other man looked rather familiar. And then he realised it was because the other man was someone he’d met before.

“Ghoul?” he asked. The other man whirled around, glaring at Mikey fiercely.

“What the fuck, kid? Do you want the entire town to hear?”

“Sorry.”

Ghoul looked around, and seemed to relax when he saw that no one was paying them any attention.

“What are you doing here?” Mikey asked.

“You ask a lot of questions. What are _you_ doing here, I thought you and your brother would be running like hell as far from the border as you can get?”

Mikey was puzzled at first, that Ghoul seemed to know exactly what had happened with he and Gerard, and then he remembered that Ghoul supposedly knew everything that went on in the Wastelands. He’d probably learned about Gerard’s rescue the second it happened.

“It’s Ray,” he said. “The army took him, and they’re supposed to be hanging him tomorrow. They said he’s a deserter. We have to stop him.”

“Is that what they said?” Ghoul asked. Mikey grimaced and told him the rest of it.

“They said he’d been selling information to gangs in the wastelands, but it’s not true! I don’t believe it, there’s no way Ray would do that.”

“Huh,” said Ghoul. “Sounds like you’ve got a problem.”

Mikey sagged, disappointed. It sounded like Ghoul had no intention of helping.

“Hey, if you were able to rescue your brother from the Red Claws, the army shouldn’t pose any sort of obstacle at all. Why are you looking so glum?”

Mikey shrugged. “They have a sorcerer with them,” he said. He hesitated, and then decided there was no point trying to keep secrets anymore. “My magic won’t fool them, so... We’ll probably have to, um, get the sorcerer out of the way if we’re going to have any chance of helping Ray.”

“Yeah?” Ghoul said, sounding kind of confused, like he didn’t understand why Mikey might have an objection to cold-blooded murder. He seemed to catch on after a minute or so. “You’ve never killed anyone, huh, kid?” he asked. Mikey gave his head a slow shake, and Ghoul kind of chuckled. “Fuck me, kid, it’s a miracle you survived the wastelands.”

“The sorcerer’s just some guy, he hasn’t done anything wrong. What right do I have to decide that Ray’s life matters more than his does?”

Ghoul rolled his eyes. “Look, I don’t got time for this philosophical bullshit, but if your heart’s set on saving your friend without spilling any blood, I _might_ be able to arrange something.”

“Seriously?” Mikey asked, feeling a flare of hope.

“ _Might_ , like I said. No promises, but if things go according to plan the army will be getting a rather urgent telegram very early tomorrow morning. You said you wanted them distracted, well, so do I.”

“Why?” Mikey asked, but Ghoul’s face darkened and he realised he’d crossed a line. “Sorry, sorry. Not my business.”

“You should probably catch a nap now, because you’ll need to be on the ball an hour after midnight.”

***

Even knowing that he needed the sleep, it was hard to relax enough knowing what would be happening later on. His efforts only meant that he was just drowsy enough to doze off right around the time he needed to wake up. Mikey forced himself awake, shook Gerard awake by the shoulder and made them both coffee strong enough to - put hair on his chest and the chest of anyone he stood next to.

By the time he was fully awake and a little jittery from all the coffee, Mikey heard the clatter of a large number of people leaving town on horseback.

“That’s gotta be it,” said Mikey. “Come on, we have to hurry.”

He and Gerard crept downstairs as quietly as they could in the nondescript clothes they’d borrowed (stolen). Mikey reached the main room of the inn and realised that there was no point trying to be stealthy; as far as the patrons were concerned, the night was still young, and the bar was full of people drinking and gambling and being generally rambunctious. Mikey straightened and walked out the door with the confident stride he’d learned for his magic. Gerard followed and they made straight for the jail.

There was only one guard, and as they’d discussed, Gerard lured him away with a story about valuables gone missing from his room. The guard looked towards the cells with a frown, and then plainly decided that it would be easier to get rid of Gerard by playing along for a few minutes then by telling him to fuck off. He locked the door behind him, but one other piece of help Ghoul had provided was a spare key. Mikey didn’t know how he’d got it, and he liked it that way.

Ray was dozing on the floor of his cell when Mikey got inside, the dim light revealing nothing more than a figure huddled under cloth. 

“Ray,” Mikey whispered, and then louder, “Ray!”

He woke straight away, looking up at Mikey with an apprehensive expression.

“Is it time?” he asked despondently.

“No, you idiot. It’s me, I’m getting you out of here.” Mikey unlocked the cell door and held it open for Ray, who just stared at him.

“Mikey? What are you doing here?”

Oh, for... Mikey couldn’t stop himself from responding sarcastically. “I’m here for the flower festival.”

Ray did not seem enlightened by this, and Mikey was maybe growing a little impatient, because Gerard wouldn’t be able to keep the guard occupied forever. “I’m here to rescue you, come on!”

Ray finally got to his feet, looking around warily. “Where are the guards?” he asked.

“Not here, but we need to be well away before they come back.”

Ray followed him out of the jail, and Mikey led him towards the corner where he’d dropped off their supplies so they wouldn’t have to go all the way back to their rooms.

“Where’s Gerard?” Ray asked.

“He’s going to follow us, he won’t be far behind.”

Once they’d put their packs on, Mikey turned to walk down the street which led out of town, only to come face to face with a very unwelcome figure.

“Whoops, watch out, I nearly- Hey! How did you get out?”

It was the sorcerer. Fuck. _Fuck_. Mikey had had all those thoughts about not killing someone who didn’t deserve it and finding another way, but now that his ‘other way’ had failed, he realised that he probably would kill this guy if it meant saving Ray’s life. He had a knife strapped to his belt, and he reached for it, his heart pounding.

The sorcerer didn’t seem to have noticed, and magic flared between his fingers. “Come back to the cell quietly,” he said, and although he hid it fairly well Mikey could hear a slight tremor in his voice. “Come on, man, don’t make me do this the hard way.”

Mikey took a swipe with the knife, and the sorcerer trapped his hand with magic, the point of the blade inches from his chest. Mikey cursed and dropped the weapon, but the sorcerer still didn’t release his hand.

“Why are you helping him?” the sorcerer asked. “Don’t you know he’s been selling information to the gangs in the wastelands? People are dead because of him!”

“That’s not true!” Mikey snapped. He pulled against the sorcerer’s grip, wishing that his own magic was just a little bit more forceful. Or that Gerard was somewhere around, that would be nice too.

“Mikey, how did you find out?” Ray asked behind him. Looking over his shoulder, Mikey could see that he, too, was being held by the sorcerer’s magic. What a fucking overachiever. “If you have proof, we can show it to Pete.”

“Who’s Pete?” Mikey asked, and then, more urgently, asked, “What do you mean? I didn’t need proof, I just realised you would never have done that.”

Ray’s face revealed a complicated mix of emotions, surprise and happiness and disappointment. “So, you have no way of convincing this guy that I’m actually innocent.”

Oh. Mikey looked back at the sorcerer, who was looking back and forth between them with a frown. 

“You realise helping a traitor constitutes treason in itself, right?” the sorcerer asked.

“He’s innocent!” Mikey yelped as the sorcerer began to drag them along. “Why won’t you just listen? Ray, tell him!”

Ray seemed reluctant to say much, though, staring off into the distance with a closed-off expression. “There’s no point,” he muttered. “Don’t you think I’ve tried this already?”

They turned a corner, and Ray asked, “Where’s Gerard?” Mikey was starting to worry about that too. There was no way he could have kept the guard occupied for all that time, and he shouldn’t have tried to. They’d agreed he would aim for ten minutes, and it had to be at least thirty by now.

The guard met them just outside the jail, frantic and wild-eyed.

“Oh, thank god, you found him!” he said on seeing Ray.

The sorcerer began berating the guard for allowing Ray to escape while returning him and Mikey to the cell. Ray sat, leaning against the wall, and Mikey sat beside him.

“It’s all going to work out,” Mikey said, not liking Ray’s defeated posture.

“I wish I could believe that,” said Ray. “I’ve been down this road before.”

“So this is why you deserted,” said Mikey. “He accused you, and you ran away?”

“I tried to tell people, but they believed him over me. He outranks me, and he was smart enough to convince everyone that I’d try to ‘frame’ him to save myself. We were already stationed on the border, so I thought I might as well head for the wastelands. That’s where all the exiles and wanted criminals end up, right?”

Wow. Mikey thought back to the night he’d first met Ray, back in that crappy tavern in that tiny little village. He couldn’t imagine what Ray had been thinking at the time, having suddenly lost his entire life and been betrayed by someone who should have been looking out for him, not to mention the entire kingdom. And then he’d decided to tag along with Mikey on what must have sounded like a suicide mission. Maybe he’d just felt like he didn’t have anything to lose.

Mikey reached for Ray’s hand again, and this time Ray threaded their fingers together, shifting a little closer to Mikey’s side so that they could hold hands more comfortably.

“I won’t let anything happen to you,” Mikey promised, although he really wasn’t sure what he’d be able to do.

“I’m sorry I dragged you into this,” said Ray, and oh no, Mikey wasn’t going to stand for that doom and gloom nonsense. If this was actually going to be their last few hours together, like hell would he let it be filled with misery and guilt.

He cupped Ray’s cheek and turned his face towards him, the better to kiss him. It went much better than last time. Ray pulled back once to ask, “Mikey, are you sure-”

“Yes,” said Mikey, preventing any argument with another kiss.

Maybe an hour passed like that, with Mikey distracting Ray with kisses every time he started to look worried or sad. Maybe he was trying to distract himself a little bit as well, but no one needed to know that. An hour passed, and then came a loud banging at the door.

“What the-” said the guard, startled, opening the door up. Gerard stumbled into the jail, his hair wild and his lip bleeding, dragging three men behind him with magic in much the same way Pete had captured Mikey and Ray earlier.

Gerard glanced around, not quite seeming to take in Mikey and Ray in the cell, and said to the guard, “Arrest these men!” with the imperious nobleman’s tone he only managed to pull off when something was terribly wrong.

“Why?”

Maybe Gerard hadn’t been prepared for that question, or any questions, because it seemed to take him a minute to muster the wits to answer. “They tried to kidnap me! Just like last time, only I was on my guard this time and they didn’t get the better of me.”

Mikey felt lightheaded for a moment. He hadn’t considered that Gerard might still be in danger, that the Red Claws might still be trying to get him back. “Gerard, are you okay?” he asked.

Gerard seemed to notice him at last. “What are you doing in there?” he asked, and then, before Mikey could answer, said to the guard, “Release these men at once!”

Pete finally spoke up. “What’s going on? Why would we release anyone? You realise one of these men is condemned for treason, and the other for trying to help him escape justice? We’re not going to just let them go.”

“Ugh.” Gerard scrunched his eyes shut for a second, the way he did when people were being too unbearably stupid to handle. He turned and waved his hand at one of the men he’d dragged in with him. “You. Tell them what you told me.”

The man blinked at him, obviously reluctant to talk, but Mikey knew how frightening Gerard could be when he put his mind to it, and if he’d already spilled the beans once, there wasn’t much keeping him from doing so a second time.

“We were sent to bring the wizard back,” he said, addressing a point just in front of Pete’s feet. “We got a message saying this was where to find him.”

“A message from who?” Gerard pressed.

“That lieutenant. Lieutenant Cooper. He’s the one who tells us which villages to raid and how to avoid the patrols. It’s always been him! I told him, I told him all of it, please don’t set your demon on me!”

Mikey hid a grin behind his hand. Gerard couldn’t actually summon or control demons, but he loved convincing people that he could. These guys must be scared out of their minds.

Pete and the guard listened to this revelation with similar expressions of amazement and horror. Pete was the first to snap out of it.

“Give me the keys,” he said, holding his hand out for them expectantly. “And get these other men into a cell.”

***

When the Lieutenant arrived back with the rest of his men, he found Gerard’s attackers in the cell which had previously held Mikey and Ray. Mikey saw alarm on his face, which he smoothly hid.

“What’s this?” he asked. “And where is the traitor?”

“About that,” said Pete. “These men had an interesting story about you.”

The lieutenant scoffed, but Mikey could hear the worry in his voice. “A story, hm? Let’s hear it, then.”

So Pete outlined the whole thing. The lieutenant noticed Ray, standing next to Mikey with no shackles around his wrists, and scowled. “This is nonsense!” he exclaimed. “These are obviously wasteland criminals, you can’t possibly trust anything they say!”

Pete hesitated, and Mikey tensed. He knew that Pete believed Ray now, but the rest of the soldiers still seemed to believe their lieutenant, and unless they could convince them otherwise, they were well and truly outnumbered. 

“I shouldn’t have left you behind. I should have realised Toro would take the opportunity to spin his lies. You’re a powerful sorcerer, Pete, but you’re much too trusting.”

Now, even Pete looked doubtful. Mikey’s heart dropped.

“It’s a shame you did receive that message, then,” Gerard said. The lieutenant looked puzzled, much like Mikey felt. Where was Gerard going with this? “The timing couldn’t have been worse.”

“What was the message?” Ray asked, not addressing the lieutenant but rather the soldiers behind him.

“The message said a nearby village was under attack by raiders. We went to defend them,” one soldier said. The others nodded and the lieutenant looked smugly down his nose at everyone, but Mikey remembered his conversation with Ghoul.

“But when you got there, the village wasn’t actually being attacked, was it?” he asked.

Everyone in the room turned to stare at him. Mikey heard one soldier ask, “How did he know that?” but he was paying more attention to the light magical touch he was brushing against each mind in the room. One of them betrayed a hint of fear, and Mikey pointed him out to Gerard with a familiar gesture. 

Gerard advanced on the unlucky soldier and asked, “What did the message really say?” The soldier’s hand flew down to cover his pocket, but Gerard was faster and, with a flip of his hand, summoned the contents of the pocket to himself.

It was a notebook. Gerard ignored the lieutenant’s exclamation of protest and flipped through it to the last entry. “It’s a cipher or a code. Who can read it?”

Pete held out his hand, and Gerard passed the notebook over. “Attack by raiders this evening stop we have captured one of them stop will see what he reveals stop,” he read.

Ray looked at the lieutenant with an expression of complete disgust. “Nearly every message warning of a raid or calling for help gets lost, or delayed, or there’s a fault with the lines. But the one time someone says that they have things under control, it’s urgent that you race out there to help? I suppose this raider they captured had some kind of unfortunate accident after your arrival.”

“There was no raider,” said Mikey. “When you got there, the villagers were surprised, weren’t they? They weren’t expecting you. There hadn’t been an attack at all. Someone sent a message to the Red Claws too, telling them where to find Gerard. Ray couldn’t have done it, he was locked up. Who does that leave?”

The soldiers looked at the lieutenant, and two of them stepped forward to take his arms. The lieutenant backed away, eyes darting around. “You can’t possibly believe this nonsense! Trapper is the one who recorded the message, he lied to all of us! I had nothing to do with it!”

The man whose notebook Gerard had taken – Trapper, Mikey presumed – looked at the lieutenant with loathing. “Don’t think I’m going to just quietly take the blame for this, you fucker!” he spat.

Mikey watched with no small amount of satisfaction as the soldiers took both men into custody, but when he looked at Ray he seemed overwhelmed, almost dazed.

“I think they’ve got things under control,” Mikey said to him. “Why don’t we get out of here?”

They left the jail, and the dawn light revealed the gallows standing at the end of the street. Mikey swallowed hard and turned the other way.

“Are you alright?” Mikey asked, when Ray had remained silent for several minutes.

Ray came to a stop in the middle of the street, and two people who had been behind them manoeuvred past, giving them dirty looks. “They let me go,” he said in a disbelieving tone.

“Yeah, well, of course they did. You didn’t do anything wrong.” 

“I’d given up,” said Ray. “No one listened when I said I was innocent, so I stopped trying to convince them. I threw away my career, but that was fine, it was already gone... but then I decided not to even give you, us, a chance, and I just accepted that I was going to die today, and now...”

Ray’s legs wobbled, and Mikey nudged him over to the side of the road to sit on a fence.

“It’s a lot to take in,” said Mikey, “but you’re fine now. Nothing’s going to happen to you. You can be a soldier again. Hell, they’ll probably promote you or something, give you Lieutenant Cooper’s old job. That’s how it works, right?”

“Not really,” said Ray with a half-smile.

“But seriously, you haven’t lost anything after all. It’s all worked out.”

“Yeah,” Ray sighed.

“Is that what you want? To go back to the army?”

Ray pursed his lips thoughtfully, then shook his head. “There are more important things I thought I’d lost my chance at.”

“Like what?” Mikey asked, and then caught on a moment later at Ray’s scathing look. “Oh! Oh, right.” He blushed, and Ray laughed.

“I mean, if you’re... if you still...” said Ray, suddenly sounding unsure.

Mikey cupped a hand around the back of Ray’s neck to pull him down for a kiss. “I still.”

Ray blushed. “Well. Good.”

“Does that mean you’ll come home with me and Gerard?”

Ray wrapped his hand around Mikey’s, standing up and looking back the way they’d come. “I think I’d better. If you continue this habit of rescuing people, you’re going to need someone to keep an eye on you.”

Mikey snorted. “Jerk,” he said, trying to keep the affection out of his voice. After a moment, though, he decided not to bother. “I can’t think of a better man for the job.”


End file.
